


The Sun and the Other Stars

by Magical_Destiny



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Romance, Bryan Fuller once called Hannibal a poetic meditation on death and I took that to heart lol, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, my Ravage contribution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23717599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magical_Destiny/pseuds/Magical_Destiny
Summary: In the aftermath of their plunge, Hannibal wanders through his past, present, and beyond...and finds Will everywhere.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 88
Collections: RAVAGE - An Infernal Hannibal Anthology





	The Sun and the Other Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【中译Translation】太阳与群星The Sun and the Other Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23816128) by [HanniBeliever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HanniBeliever/pseuds/HanniBeliever)



> I wrote this a looooooong while ago and submitted it to the wonderful Ravage anthology! Then I moved to a new continent and got distracted from uploading it... anyway, long story short, there's a pandemic, I became the right combo of sad and homebound to think of my fic and finally upload it. I hope the day will come soon when this note mentioning the pandemic will be super dated and a distant memory. Until then, I hope this fic and the Ravage anthology will be a safe and peaceful place for our minds to temporarily rest. If you have the anthology, this fic is on pg. 389.

_Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark,_

_For the straightforward pathway had been lost._

_Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say What was this forest savage, rough, and stern,_

_Which in the very thought renews the fear._

_So bitter is it, death is little more; But of the good to treat, which there I found,_

_Speak will I of the other things I saw there._

—Inferno: Canto I, Dante Alighieri 

_***_

Far away, Mischa laughs. Her white hair and coat blend with the snow she kicks up in glee. She bends to gather some into a ball, but it won’t hold together; the snow crumbles and slips from her mittens. She laughs, still.

Hannibal watches. The scene is bright and vivid, and Mischa’s laugh tinkles like silver, harmonizing pleasantly with the crunch of her footsteps and the near-silence of the falling snow. Her breath steams in a halo around her. The image is not reality and not entirely memory either. It’s a mental indulgence, and Hannibal is always eager to indulge. He reaches down to gather snow for Mischa— 

—his fingers curl into ice cold sand. 

For a moment, Mischa’s white coat and white hair flicker, a distant candle in the dark. _Precious child,_ he thinks. He opens his eyes and she is gone. 

He isn’t home, of course. He can’t remember where he is, lying cold in the dark, so he thinks instead of home the last time he saw it: buried in winter, naked branches clawing at the flat white skies like fingers of bone. Reaching, reaching—and grasping nothing. 

“Hannibal?” 

The question rings with fear. Fear of an answer, perhaps. Or of no answer. Hannibal recognizes the fiercely conflicted tone instantly. 

“Will.” 

His eyes have closed again. The darkness behind his lids grows thick and warm. 

The memory is many decades old, but vivid in Hannibal’s mind: the wooden plank catching at his trousers, the rope rubbing his palms, the pulley creaking plaintively in his ear. 

_Can you see it, Hannibal?_

He peers forward, aiming the flashlight at earth and stone packed firm and worn smooth by time, searching for the faded letters. His father has often told him about the medieval history of the castle that bears the Lecter name. Every chamber has a blood-stained story of tragedy, death, or ghosts to go with it. The oubliette is the most morbid place of all, a deep well in the deepest cellar with ancient bones at the bottom. Hannibal has begged to see it for many years. Father waited until he was old enough to hold himself on the pulley without falling before he agreed. 

Hannibal searches in silence, trailing the circle of light across the side of the oubliette. Perhaps he isn’t deep enough. Perhaps the prisoners had not been able to reach— 

Ah. There. 

Scratched into the stone is a single word. The markings are uneven and varied in depth; Hannibal wonders what implement had been used and how long it had taken. It must have been difficult work with no light. More difficult with no hope. The watery glow of the flashlight spills into the shallow grooves and illuminates the edges of each letter. 

_pourquoi_

“What does it mean?” a voice asks close beside him. 

Hannibal turns his head and isn’t surprised to find Will. They dangle together above the dark drop below. 

“‘Why,’” Hannibal answers. “It means ‘why.’” 

_Can you see it, Hannibal?_ his father’s voice comes from above. 

Hannibal can almost hear the weeping of the prisoner from the darkness below, seeping through time itself like a veil. Deep below the earth, Will smiles at him. 

Hannibal’s eyes are open again. He’s on his stomach, face half-pressed into cold sand. He finds Will’s face close beside his own when his vision clears. Will’s eyes are open too, blinking slowly at the stars. Hannibal works one arm free, gripping the sand to pull himself forward. The bullet wound flares when it scrapes the ground, and Hannibal’s vision turns white. 

He opens his eyes to warmth and softness. White sheets reflect bright sun streaming through open windows. Will’s heartbeat is a muffled but steady _thump_ under his ear. Their bodies are tangled loosely, with an ease born of long habit. Will’s breath stirs his hair when he speaks. 

“Good morning,” he says. “I thought you’d never wake up.” 

Hannibal has no reply. His sense of time and memory is blurred in the manner of a dream, but the warm embrace of contentment overrides his confusion. He tightens his arms around Will, happy when Will allows it—delighted when he squeezes back. 

“Hannibal?” Will asks, his voice amused.

One thought emerges clearly from the muddle in Hannibal’s mind. In this life, he suddenly knows, he often wakes with his head pillowed on Will’s chest, listening to his voice with one ear and his heartbeat with the other. The nearness never wounds either of them. 

“Will,” he replies, closing his eyes and holding tight.

“Hannibal,” Will’s voice says again, this time rough and thready, like a pulse pushed to the brink. 

The beach, the cold, the sand—and Will. Hannibal remembers. There’s a bitter knot in his chest; try as he might, he can’t untangle it. 

“I wonder,” Hannibal says, but his breath catches and he coughs up seawater. He tastes blood and salt as he struggles. Will is lying on his back, staring grimly at him, pale as death in the wan light of the moon. 

“What do you wonder?” he asks when Hannibal is breathing again. The wound in his cheek pulls with every word. 

“Why God saw fit to take everything from me. Everything I loved.” There are tears in Will’s eyes, gilded in moonlight. “Do you think there’s a logic to it, Will? A divine purpose?” 

“I don’t know. Did you have a purpose in taking everything from me?” 

Hannibal can’t speak; Will’s tears spill over, trails of silver cutting through the blood on his cheeks. 

“It’s over now,” Will whispers. “We’re going to die. Finally.” His hands twitch against the ground as he shuts his eyes. Hannibal longs to reach for him, to carry him away from the beach and the wounds and the unmendable sorrow behind his eyes, but his body shakes, shivers, and betrays him. He manages to extend an arm, his hand resting near Will’s. 

“I nearly froze to death as a boy,” Hannibal says, his voice still raw. “I left my home in a snowstorm and was lost. I could see nothing, feel nothing. I nearly died.”

Will doesn’t open his eyes, but his forehead furrows. “Why didn’t you?” 

“I heard my family calling me and I followed their voices. I was lost a long time before you, Will.” 

Tears wash Will’s face of the blood. His breath comes in shudders. Hannibal takes his hand and isn’t pushed away. 

“I have wondered what it would be like to die,” Hannibal murmurs, gripping Will’s hand with numb fingers. 

Will’s eyes open, glittering dully in the half light. “Do you want to find out?” 

The words could have been a threat, a joke, a flat declaration. But Will’s voice and Will’s eyes make it a genuine question and an invitation, painful and sincere. 

“You would have me come with you?” 

Blood trickles from Will’s lips and cheek when he smiles. “It wouldn’t be heaven or hell without you.” Hannibal pulls himself forward with great effort, resting his head gently against Will’s chest. His heartbeat is too fast and faint; his breaths rattle. Hannibal matches his breathing. He’d match their heartbeats if he could.

“God didn’t take me away after all,” Will rasps. His eyes have fluttered shut.

Hannibal wonders if he’s guilty of misjudging the Almighty. He grasps Will’s hand, closes his eyes, and lets himself bleed.

***

_But then my mind was struck by light that flashed and,_

_with this light, received what it had asked. Here force_

_failed my high fantasy; but my desire and will were_

_moved already—like a wheel revolving uniformly—by the_

_Love that moves the sun and the other stars._

—Paradiso: Canto XXXIII, Dante Alighieri

**Author's Note:**

> When I was planning and writing this fic, I listened to The Fountain soundtrack and thought a lot about love, time, and death and whether they can transcend each other. I suppose that through this fic, I came down pretty firmly in favor of YES lol. I tagged Major Character Death to be safe, but the death isn't certain, so feel free to imagine the two of them either passing beyond the veil together or walking off into a more tangible sunset. Either way, they are 100% together. I feel pretty sure Hannibal would classify either version as a happy ending. ;) 
> 
> I haven't written or posted anything Hannibal in so long! I've missed Hannibal fandom and fic! Sending you all digital hugs and hoping that you're safe and well. <3


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